


Inexplicable

by fanfictionandcats



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictionandcats/pseuds/fanfictionandcats
Summary: “Thanks for the strawberries.” She said. And whatever that was.Gale’s eyes squinted from the glare of the sun outside. “Thanks for the lemonade.”“Don’t… say anything to anyone about this.”Madge nodded. “I won’t.”Gale continues delivering strawberries to the Undersee's, even after Katniss is sent away for the Games.[GALE/MADGE FRIENDS-WITH-BENEFITS AU]
Relationships: Gale Hawthorne/Madge Undersee
Comments: 16
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in years but it's quarantine and I miss it. Good to be back.
> 
> There is not very much Gale POV in this first chapter but do not despair, there is PLENTY in Chapter 2!
> 
> P.S. It's been a long time since I re-read Hunger Games, so I apologize for any minor canon inconsistencies.

Madge Undersee reluctantly tied back the curtains of her bedroom window, wincing at the bright mid-morning light. She sighed at the beautiful day. It felt both difficult and inappropriate to appreciate it. Downstairs, the television steadily droned on with highlight reels, interviews, blood and dirt and destruction in the highest quality surround-sound—as if her father needed to prove to anyone who had happened to be walking by outside that they were, indeed, watching every second of every day of the Games.

Today, however, Madge’s father was out meeting with reporters from the Capitol. And today was a Saturday. Strawberry day. 

Leaving the window, she moved in front of the mirror over her vanity and took in her reflection. And like every Saturday, she tried to reason with herself against caring at all what she looked like on Saturdays, even as she took extra time to brush her hair and select the right dress.

Madge paused. What was wrong with her? Only a monumental idiot would develop a crush on someone who so obviously hated them. Not to mention that that someone also somehow happened to be involved with Katniss, the closest thing Madge had to a best friend. She threw her brush down dejectedly. She’d seen him looking at her from time to time in the cafeteria at school, but later realized that might only be because, up until a few weeks ago, she’d always been sitting next to Katniss. Still, there was some part of her that couldn’t manage to let her attraction to Gale Hawthorne go. 

A few minutes after noon, there was a firm knock at the back door. 

And there he was. He wore a long sleeved gray shirt, too heavy for the temperature outside, and a thin sheen of sweat was making pieces of his hair stick to his forehead. Madge wished it made him look awkward, but unfortunately her heartbeat still sped up at the sight of him.

“Wow, you’ve got a lot today.” She said dumbly. 

Gale raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Good haul this month.”

He stared expectantly at her. There was something about his gaze, how steady and unabashed it always was, that made her whole body warm. 

“Um, let me get you some money.” Madge said skittishly, dipping back inside to collect his payment from the living room table. When she returned, Gale was still standing in the doorway.

“You didn’t have to wait outside, it’s so hot out there.”

Gale shrugged. “It’s not too bad.” He replied, even while rolling up his sleeves to wipe the sweat off his face with his forearm. Madge handed him the money, and he traded her for the strawberries.

“You don’t want something to drink or anything? I have fresh lemonade.” 

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Madge regretted it. She braced herself for what was coming: some pointed comment about how pampered and privileged she was for even ever _having_ fresh lemonade—

“Sure.”

She was sure she misheard him. “What?”

Gale coughed. “I said sure.”

“Oh. Okay, sure, come in.” Madge hurried. His brow furrowed.

“Were you not serious about that?”

“No, no, I’m just…” She needed to catch her breath, she sounded ridiculous. “I’m a little surprised.”

“Why are you surprised?”

_Are you going to make me say it?_ She thought.

“I thought you hated me.”

Gale cracked a smile. “It’s really hot outside.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, mostly out of shock. What was going on right now? She stepped aside, holding the door open for Gale to come inside. “You can sit anywhere in the living room, I’ll go pour you a glass.”

Hurrying to the kitchen, Madge placed the strawberry basket on the counter. She located the most modest piece of glassware she could find, forcing her hands to stop shaking long enough to pour the lemonade. The last time they’d said more than a few words to each other, he’d been less than amicable if not outright rude, to the point even Katniss noticed. It was Reaping Day, tensions were high, but she only had so much patience for being treated like a punching bag. Yes, she needed to remember that. He was someone she was attracted to, but that didn’t mean he didn’t behave like an ass sometimes.

When she returned to the living room with a glass of lemonade, Gale was standing stiffly, still close to the door. For a brief moment, she almost laughed. He looked so uncomfortable, arms crossed against his lean but muscled chest, eyes darting around the room as if he was expecting some unseen predator to lunge out from under the couch at any moment.

Madge realized, for the first time, that she might have the upper hand. 

“Sit down.” She said, enjoying how definitive her statement sounded as she held out the glass of lemonade.

“Thanks.” Gale said curtly, taking the glass and finally sitting down gingerly on the armchair against the windows. He took a long gulp of lemonade. Madge, quickly realizing she’d been staring, turned her gaze out the windows at the flowering trees outside.

“Did you not get one for yourself?” He asked, after draining the last drop in the glass. Madge was so shocked at how quickly Gale had finished his drink that she almost forgot to respond.

“No, I had some this morning.” She replied.

Gale looked down at the empty glass in his hands, and then placed it carefully on the coffee table in front of him. “It’s really good.”

Madge snorted. “I’m surprised you even tasted it, with how quickly you drank it.”

“I was thirsty.”

“Fresh lemonade is meant to be savored.” Madge said, adding softly, “And enjoyed.” 

Her eyes darted again to the window. Without even looking, her body sensed his gaze on her before she did. 

“You’re right. I was taking it for granted.” Gale said, his voice lower and somehow much more purposeful than before. “I’ll be sure not to do that in the future.”

Madge shifted in her seat. Her whole body started to prickle. She hoped desperately he didn’t notice how he was affecting her. It was silly, and she was sure whatever she’d been perceiving in his tone was all in her head. She didn’t want to be this girl, just one of the many in town vying for his attention. 

_He is rude… and can sometimes be abrasive… and… I’m sure he has other flaws I’m just forgetting right now._ She reminded herself. 

Gale rose from the armchair, crossing the living room to the couch Madge was perched on and sat down next to her. She kept her vision on the trees, holding her breath. He was suddenly so close to her, she could smell him. The mix of pine needles, sweat and earth emanated from his body and she couldn’t help closing her eyes for a moment to memorize that smell. Then, even if this was some elaborate practical joke, she’d know what Gale Hawthorne smelled like. A prank might have even been ideal, so she could be properly angry with him and rid herself of this infatuation forever.

“What are you looking at?” He murmured. She resisted the urge to shiver. 

“There’s a robin’s nest in that tree over there.” Madge babbled. “I’ve seen the mother plenty, but I’m waiting to see the father. Males have the, um, red, brighter feathers.” 

She had no idea what she was saying. She was baffled as to how words were even continuing to come out of her mouth when all she could think about was where his knee was touching hers. She hoped to God she wasn’t blushing.

Finally, Madge slowly turned her head to look at him. He was smiling.

“You’re kind of strange.” 

Normally, coming from anyone else, at any other time, she would have been embarrassed to hear that, but somehow in that moment, he made it sound like a compliment.

“I think _you're_ kind of strange.” She countered. He kept a perfectly straight face, except the corners of his mouth couldn’t help tugging upwards.

She realized Gale’s face was now only inches away from hers. _Wait, is he going to—?_

And suddenly, in the middle of Madge’s living room, Gale kissed her. 

His lips were firm, but softer than she’d imagined them being. Like everything he did, the kiss was purposeful and direct, but also unexpectedly deep. 

When the kiss ended, Gale pulled back, asking carefully, “Was that okay?”

She should have slapped him. Demanded to know why he thought he could treat her like shit in front of Katniss and now was suddenly kissing her, _oh my god,_ he had _actually kissed her._

Madge could feel her cheeks starting to burn and knew her face was about to turn bright red. “Yes.”

It was now or never. He could decide never talk to her again and disappear and pretend like this never happened. Hell be damned, she was going to make the most of this. Before she could overthink, she took a fistful of his shirt and brought her lips back to his. Sensing this change, Gale placed one hand on the small of her back, the other on her hip, bringing her so close to him that she was practically in his lap. She followed suit, threading her fingers through his dark hair as he licked into her mouth. Madge found herself straddling his waist, unconsciously grinding herself against him, her entire body feeling like it had been lit on fire. His fingertips dug into her hip as she moved. She hoped they would leave marks. She’d never been handled like this, and knew that she wouldn’t be satisfied with anything else after getting a taste of it. 

It felt like the moment lasted forever and ended all too quickly. And inevitably, Gale slowly pulled his lips away, and when Madge opened her eyes, reality hit her square in the face. She was making out with Gale Hawthorne with her dress bunched up around her waist _in the middle of her living room in broad daylight._

As gracefully as she could manage, she stood up off of Gale’s lap and returned to her seat on the couch. They both stared out the window, back at the robin’s nest. In the long silence that followed, Madge wracked her brain for anything, literally _anything_ to say, before Gale beat her to the punch.

“I have to head back home.”

She expected him to finally pull the rug out from under her and laugh in her face, but he surprisingly, he didn’t. Instead, he just stood up from the couch and put his hands in his pockets.

After a moment, Madge smoothed her dress and walked him to the door, her mind reeling and her mouth far too slow to say anything complex she wouldn’t later regret.

“Thanks for the strawberries.” She said. _And whatever that was._

Gale’s eyes squinted from the glare of the sun outside. “Thanks for the lemonade.”

There was another pause. Madge looked awkwardly down at her bare feet. When she looked back up, Gale’s face hardened. 

“Don’t… say anything to anyone about this.” He said quickly.

Madge nodded. “I won’t.”

* * *

Gale peered up at the stars through the rapidly widening crack in the Hawthorne’s ceiling. He’d given up trying to fall asleep hours ago, and instead settled on testing himself on how many stars he could name and their directional uses in as short a time as possible. But his mind kept wandering.

He’d been feeling claustrophobic even before the Reaping, before Katniss was taken and before Peace Keepers had tightened security on his not-so-legal hunting activities. But now, his thoughts became an endless, exhausting loop, with the end of his schooling drawing near and the reality of having to work in the mines looming ever closer. 

And then there was Madge Undersee. She was a complete mystery. He couldn’t stand people from town, and made it a point to either antagonize those he could and avoid those he couldn’t. They were pompous, and arrogant, and feigned complete oblivion of their privilege, while his friends and family in the Seam were forced to starve. But if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure Madge was actually any of those things. And Katniss seemed to think she was decent…

Gale shook his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about her in the first place. And no, he didn’t have feelings for Madge. With Katniss, those were real feelings—feelings of kinship and shared experience, and the urge to protect her. Madge was different. When she was in the room, it felt he was falling into some invisible centripetal force, pulling him towards her against any logic or reason. And when he looked at her, it was difficult to stop. True, he wanted to figure her out, but he didn’t like the idea that there was _anyone_ out there he couldn’t predict the actions of. It was an infatuation, that was all. Something he wanted but knew, in the end, he couldn’t have. He’d hoped after kissing her, he’d at least have gotten it out of his system, but to his dismay the kiss had only fed fire to a flame. 

The way she’d kissed him had been unexpected, to say the least. It made him wonder where she’d learned to kiss like that. He hadn’t heard of her ever having a boyfriend, but then again he’d never had a girlfriend and accumulated several notches on his belt. But he’d never even seen her really talk to guys from town at school. Now that Katniss was gone, she didn’t really talk to anyone.

As he closed his eyes, the flash of Madge’s lilac underwear he’d seen as she’d climbed off his lap replayed in his mind. He felt himself getting hard and gritted his teeth. Pushing all his worries to the back of his head, he gave in, starting to stroke himself to the thought of Madge, naked and spread out for him.

* * *

There was less small talk, this Saturday. He arrived with strawberries, though neither had commented on the meager amount he’d actually shown up with. Somehow, there they were, on the couch again, Madge on his lap and his lips on hers.

After a while, Madge pulled away, a small smile spreading over her face as she took in the sight of him. She’d had her fingers in his hair from the moment his lips touched hers, and now it looked like he’d been through a wind tunnel. 

“I messed up your hair.”

He laughed, his palms still firmly gripping her thighs. “I’m not too worried about that right now.”

“Do you want to go upstairs to my room?” She blurted out. His eyes widened for just a moment, and she panicked. “Just for privacy. Not… Not if you don’t want to. I mean, I didn’t mean anything else by that.”

“Okay.” Gale replied smugly, after letting her flounder. “Let me see your room.”

Upstairs, Madge took Gale quickly past her mother’s thankfully quiet, locked room and into hers. Once inside, Gale didn’t skip a beat, taking her into his arms and kissing her deeply. He moved them back towards the bed, and took the opportunity to get Madge under him for a change. The pressure of his body on top of hers was delicious. He propped himself up on his forearm, using the other hand to travel down her body, until he reached the hem of her dress. Agonizingly slowly, he inched his hand higher and higher until his thumb was caressing her inner thigh. Madge moaned into the kiss, knowing full well she’d regret later letting him know how eager she was for him to touch her.

Carefully, his fingertips brushed against her clit through her underwear, and she twitched. Pausing from kissing for a moment, Gale searched her eyes for her go-ahead. Releasing a ragged breath, she nodded, taking his hand in hers and guiding it to rub against her underwear.

Even through fabric, his fingers rubbing her clit felt incredible. Gale’s hands had been a fascination for Madge for some time—they were hunter’s hands, graceful and adept. He pushed her underwear to the side, running one finger up and down the length of her opening. 

“You’re so wet…” Gale murmured, almost too quietly for Madge to hear.

“What?” She asked breathlessly. His fingers were moving at a pace that made Madge want to burst into flames out of sheer anticipation.

He didn’t respond. Instead, Gale gently pushed a finger inside of her. Madge’s back curved up off the bed at the invasion, but couldn’t help rolling her hips and grinding into his hand. 

“More.” She whispered, gripping his biceps.

“You want more?” He choked, but added another finger without breaking his rhythm. Madge stared up at the ceiling, completely immersed in how Gale was touching her. She could feel every knuckle of his two fingers as he moved his fingers inside of her. She’d done this only once before, and it had felt nothing like this. 

“You take that so good.” Gale muttered under his breath, more to himself than Madge. A shiver ran down her spine and she pulsed around his fingers. He quickly glanced up to study her expression. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

A dangerous smile spread over Gale’s face. “Do you like when I talk to you that way?”

Madge didn’t respond, and quickly Gale ceased the movement of his fingers. Madge practically whined as her eyes flew back open at the interruption. His expression looked wolfish, hungry and dominant and incredibly arousing. He was expecting an answer.

“Yes.” She moaned, impatiently bucking her hips up towards him. “Yes… please…”

Thankfully, Gale relented, returning to the slow, deep rhythm he’d established. But he pushed himself up, positioning his mouth next to her ear.

“You look so good with my fingers inside of you.”

Madge gasped, pulsing again on his fingers. “Yours feel so much better than my own.” 

“Do you touch yourself, laying here?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think about?”

A guilty smile spread across her face before she could hide it. 

Gale’s fingers sped up, moving in and out of her and curling upwards inside her. “What do you think about?”

“Things.”

“Like what?” 

Even through waves of pleasure, Madge managed to roll her eyes. “I don’t want to inflate your ego more than it already has been.”

“Pretty big talk for somebody who’s going to be moaning my name in a minute.”

“That’s presumptuous—“ Madge gasped as Gale curled his fingers inside her, using his thumb to rub against her clit as he bit her neck.

“Oh… yes, yes, oh my—“ She felt her legs start to tremble, and Madge came on his fingers, gripping Gale’s shoulders and pulling him against her in the process. 

When he was sure she was finished, Gale slowly lifted himself off of her, taking his fingers out from inside her. As Madge regained her breath, she opened her eyes his smug smile. 

“I told you.”

“I didn’t say your name.” Madge protested, shaking her head. 

Gale just chuckled. “Trust me, I’ll get there.”

They laid next to each other on Madge’s bed, with only their shoulders touching. She couldn’t believe all that had happened and they were both still wearing all their clothes. 

Eventually, Gale sat up. “I should get going.”

“Okay.” Madge said, sitting up as well and smoothing her hair. She thought about how she must look, her face flushed and her lips swollen.

After he’d laced up his shoes, something in Madge’s room caught his attention. “You really like strawberries.”

“What?” 

“The…” He cleared his throat, and then pointed to the illustration she’d done of a strawberry on her wall.

“Oh. Yeah, I do.” _Definitely nothing to do with the fact that you’re always the one delivering them._

“Alright, so…”

“I’ll walk you downstairs.”

Silently, Gale and Madge went back downstairs, her mind still hazy and body drunk on his touch.

Gale stepped outside, turning back to nod his goodbye. “I’ll see you in school.” 

It abruptly struck Madge as incredibly strange that only minutes ago he’d been kissing her neck, with some part of him inside her and now he was standing all the way at the bottom of the steps to say goodbye to her.

“Yeah, see ya.”

He turned, hands shoved back into his pockets and started away. 

As Madge closed the door behind her, she couldn’t help a contented sigh from escaping her lips. She had no idea what she was doing, but she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so alive. This thing, whatever it was, felt fragile, but she didn’t care. She wanted more of it.

A knock at the door broke Madge out of her stupor. She opened the door, expecting to have her mood thoroughly ruined by her father coming home early. Instead, her mood greatly improved.

“Do you want to do this again?” Gale asked. "Same time next week?"

_As if he even needed to ask._

“Yeah, sure.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gale stiffened. “I’m not your charity case.”
> 
> She was starting to hate how prideful he was.
> 
> “I know that. You’re… my…” Madge’s tongue stuck in the back of her throat. Oh God, why had she said that? “You’re Katniss’ friend. So just… take it, please?”
> 
> Finally, Gale relented, tucking the roll of bandages in his back pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments on the first chapter! I know it's been a little PG-13 for an E-rated fic, but just you wait ;)

As the speakers in the cafeteria blared incomprehensible re-run commentary on the Games, school somehow managed to steadily drag on. To Gale, it seemed asinine for him to even be there, given he had less than a month left and absolutely none of the curriculum would matter when he was down in the mines with the other men from the Seam. Still, his mother Hazelle insisted that he graduate, and so he settled on doing the bare minimum to achieve that meaningless distinction for his mother and her alone. 

Across the crowded room, Madge sat alone, eating an apple and reading a book Gale vaguely realized she’d attempted to talk to him about as he had kissed her neck. She hadn’t gotten very far into the plot before her words dissolved into sighs, then muffled moans. From what she had managed to say before that point, he understood it was old; a book from early Panem, and she was reading it “because it seemed interesting.” This baffled him. She was the only person he’d ever met who actually read for fun. 

Today, she was wearing a simple, cleanly pressed baby blue dress, and he couldn’t help wondering if her underwear matched. Maybe even blue lace, hugging the curve of her hip, obscuring a patch of soft, blond hair. He’d inch that scrap of lace down her legs, until it fell around her slim ankles. She’d lean on his shoulders as she stepped out of them, and she’d be completely bare for him. _“What are you doing?”_ She’d say, in that curious but eager way, as he slid his hands up her calves, then her creamy thighs… He’d move them to the bed, guide her to kneel over his face, pulling her hips down to finally taste her—

“…Gale?”

Gale snapped back to reality, his friend Thom waiting expectantly for…?

“What did you say?”

“I said, are you coming tonight?” Thom repeated incredulously. 

“To what?”

“Marron’s. Tessa’s going and I have to be in there so Heath doesn’t get to her first.” Thom said, cracking his knuckles. “Who are you looking at?”

Gale turned back to his friend, hoping Thom hadn’t followed his line of sight. “Nobody, I just zoned out.” 

Thom narrowed his eyes, but left it alone. Gale appreciated it. He knew he wouldn’t be going to Marron’s with Thom tonight; tomorrow morning would be one of the few opportunities he’d have to hunt this week and he needed a clear head. He’d been working hard, having promised to look after Katniss’ mother and Prim as well as his own family. And he’d kept that promise. But as the Games progressed, there would be more and more reporters and people from the Capitol descending on District 12, and he needed to plan for that. He had no business thinking about anything else.

The bell rang. Out of habit, Gale snuck a quick last glance at Madge. His eyes met hers, and she flashed him a secret smile. It was so fast, he thought he might have imagined it, but it was there. Just for him.

Grabbing his backpack, he followed Thom and left the cafeteria, and found himself struggling to bite back a smile.

* * *

That Saturday, another unpredicted heat wave hit District 12, prompting the guests and reporters from the Capitol to complain endlessly, as if Madge’s father was somehow expected to control the weather. In turn, the Mayor was in a foul mood, and spent the day before lecturing Madge for her lack of attendance at the formal dinners he’d been holding for the Games. Blessedly, her father left early on that day, and Madge sat in the living room patting her forehead with a cold cloth and waiting impatiently for Gale. 

He arrived later than usual, practically a puddle on her front door. He was wearing clothes entirely too heavy for the temperature, and they stuck to his body in the heat. 

“You look sweaty.” Madge teased. 

Gale snorted, entering the house and shutting the door. “Not all of us have the luxury of spending today lounging around.” 

Madge ignored the dig. 

“The trick is: lighter clothing.” She said, giving him a turn to show off her dress. She watched his eyes travel down her body as she moved, and felt the familiar warmth spreading out over her body.

“I don’t think a dress like that would be as flattering on me.” Gale said, moving towards her and placing one of his hands on her hip. His touch was searing hot, as if it could burn a hole through the fabric. She bit her lip, and took his other hand in hers to lead him upstairs.

Even with the window open, Madge’s bedroom was like a furnace. Add a six-foot man on top of her, and soon Madge was sweating just as much as Gale.

“You can take your shirt off, if it’d make you feel more comfortable.” Madge told him. 

Strangely, Gale shook his head. “I’m alright.” He insisted, though the collar of his shirt was now completely wet with sweat.

“Are you sure?” Madge pressed. She’d been contemplating for a while now why he never moved to take off his clothes in front of her. She knew his reputation, that he’d likely gone much further than kissing with several other girls. She hoped she hadn’t done anything to suggest she wouldn’t like that _very_ much.

But Gale nodded, and dipped back down to kiss her again. They kissed for a long time, their bodies pressed together, until Madge became so overheated she needed a break. She pulled away, wiping the sweat off her top lip, and Gale took the opportunity to stand, lifting up the back of his shirt towards the open window in search of a breeze. It was only then that she noticed a reddish-brown stain had appeared on the front of her dress. Panicked, she thought she might have started her period, but then she remembered it had only been a week since her last one had ended. 

When she looked up to check if Gale had seen, he was staring at the stain. As he was standing with his back to the window, she noticed a larger, similar stain low on the front of his shirt that hadn’t been there before. His expression was suddenly fearful, in a way she’d never seen before.

“Are you bleeding?” Madge asked urgently, sitting up in bed. Just as quickly as the fear had crossed his face, it was gone. 

“Got a scratch.” He responded shortly. “How much does that dress cost?”

“What?” He didn’t answer, and she realized he might have assumed she’d expect him to _pay_ for the damage. “Oh… no, it doesn’t matter. What do you mean “a scratch”? Did someone do something to you?” 

All at once, visions of Gale being stabbed somewhere in the Seam in the middle of the night started flooding through Madge’s head, and she couldn’t help standing up to be closer to him. But he pivoted away towards the door. 

“It’s nothing.”

“Gale, you’re bleeding right through your shirt. Did you get into a fight or something?”

When he rolled his eyes, she knew she’d lost him. She chewed the inside of her cheek, searching for something to say. He clearly wasn’t going to tell her how he’d gotten the injury, and was making her feel stupid and childish for even asking. It stung, the way his behavior turned on a dime like that around her.

Finally, she sighed. “I’m only trying to help.”

When she gathered the courage to look at him again, his expression had softened. He looked conflicted, his lips pressed into a thin line, but when their eyes met, he let his breath go.

“Look, I can’t say—you have no idea what I have to…” He trailed off. “I got bit by a dog.”

It sounded like a lie, until Gale gingerly pulled up his shirt to reveal a fraying, blood-soaked piece of fabric tied sloppily around his abdomen. Madge winced. She was used to seeing injuries much worse than this on TV, everyone was, but she had never seen anything like it in real life. Her stomach flipped, and she reached out to touch his wrist. He let her, his shoulders relaxing as she slid her hand down to hold his. 

For a moment, the air in the room changed. Gale deflated, his eyes unguarded as his shoulders sagged and he took a deep breath. Madge had never seen him look like this—the weight of all the responsibility he carried every day was exposed to her. 

“Where did it happen?” Madge asked. He swallowed thickly, but didn’t answer. “Do you need bandages?”

“I can’t afford them.” Gale admitted quietly. 

Madge opened her bedroom door. “Come with me.”

Sneaking past her mother’s room, Madge brought Gale into the bathroom and started rummaging through the cabinets. She knew at one point her father had kept emergency medical supplies stashed somewhere, and hoped that included the bandages she was thinking of. While searching towards the back of the cabinet, she had to move the box of her mother’s morphling. Madge closed the flaps of the box, but recoiled as she realized Gale had already seen. 

“Why do you have morphling?” He asked, just as Madge closed her grasp around the roll of bandages in the very back of the cabinet. 

“It’s for my mother.” Madge replied hurriedly, and pressed the roll of bandages into Gale’s hand. “Take this.”

He shook his head. “I can’t, I can’t afford it.”

“I’m giving it to you.”

Gale stiffened. “I’m not your charity case.”

She was starting to hate how prideful he was. 

“I _know_ that. You’re… my…” Madge’s tongue stuck in the back of her throat. Oh God, why had she said that? “You’re Katniss’ friend. So just… take it, please?”

Finally, Gale relented, tucking the roll of bandages in his back pocket. “I am sorry, about the dress.”

Madge giggled softly. “It’s alright. I don’t really like this one anyway.”

It was lie; it was one of her favorites, and Gale smirked as if he saw right through her. “You’re right, it’s an ugly dress.”

Madge gasped sarcastically. “If you think you’re getting a kiss after that, you’re dead wrong.”

Gale grinned, closing the distance between them as Madge’s back hit the bathroom door, his mouth inches away from hers. “I don’t know, I think my odds look pretty good.”

Madge rolled her eyes. She hated when he was right.

* * *

They didn’t talk about the Games, not about Katniss or his family or money. Those things still existed, but if Gale was touching Madge, it was as if everything else paused, suspended in place. Even still, being around expensive things made Gale nervous. No matter what they were, he knew this: if you tried to hold onto them, sooner or later they always became liability. 

Just setting foot in the Mayor’s house made him uncomfortable, as if Madge’s father could somehow tell someone from the Seam had been there by some town-specific super sense Gale couldn’t predict. He was always careful not to leave anything behind, that he didn’t have mud on his shoes when he entered the house, but still. He hoped Madge had been telling the truth when she insisted her father would never notice a roll of bandages missing, but it worried him. It was dangerous to be in the house at all, much less to be doing the things he was doing with the Mayor’s daughter. 

Yet when Saturday came, Gale found himself at her doorstep again. 

“My dad’s gone all day today.” Madge said simply. Gale breathed a silent sigh of relief. He always wondered if her mother was home, and what was going on there, but knew that asking would lead down a road he was determined not to travel with Madge. 

“Are you coming?” Madge asked, already padding barefoot through the front room towards the staircase. She cocked her head and gave him a smirk, something new he’d never seen her do before. It made his cock ache. 

Gale wasn’t even sure why he kept coming back in the first place. All he and Madge really did was kiss, and sometimes he made her cum with his fingers. There were plenty of girls offering a whole lot more for a lot less trouble. But when he considered going down to the slag heap with any one of them, it just seemed underwhelming. Exhausting, even. Neither him nor whichever girl he’d chosen was really _there,_ in the moment. Madge… Madge was there. Every single molecule of her was there with him, moving with him, running her fingers down his back underneath his shirt, pressing her chest up into his, reacting to his touch as if it was the first time she’d ever been touched at all. 

Even now, he was still surprised at how passionate she was with physical touch. At school and around District 12, she was known for being a bit of a prude, in both demeanor and sexual experience. But the sounds she made when he kissed that one spot on her neck just below her jaw told him she was far from the proper good-girl everyone made her out to be.

He realized Madge was still looking at him expectantly for him to follow her. 

“Oh, yeah.” Gale stuttered. Madge _laughed—_ he really needed to get a grip. However, following her up the stairs afforded him an unobscured view of her ass, which didn’t help. 

Madge’s bedroom was yellow and painstakingly decorated. All over the walls, there were tiny intricately painted flowers, with strawberries and blueberries peppered throughout. The windowsill was entirely taken up by various potted plants. Her bed itself had _three_ pillows, which he’d told her was excessive around the third time he’d visited her. He knew the bed pretty well at this point, having conjured the image of Madge touching herself while thinking of him as he fell asleep on the nights he couldn’t help himself, or was too tired to force his mind to think of anything but her.

“Did you paint all these?” Gale asked, gesturing to a painted straw basket of strawberries next to the closet door.

Madge nodded, sitting down on her bed. “Yeah. It took a little over a year to complete the whole thing, but I think it was worth it.” 

He turned back from the wall to look at her. This was the moment her facade always faltered; after they’d come upstairs but before he touched her. She was suddenly hesitant and small, almost as if she was afraid he might decide to leave. It made Gale feel guilty, so he pushed that feeling away.

He shrugged off his jacket, dropping it in a pile on the floor at the foot of her bed. His fingertips graced her bare shoulder and she shivered, lifting her gaze to look him in the eye. Her eyes… her eyes were something else. 

Slowly, his fingertips traveled up from the slope of her shoulder, across her collarbone, along her soft, pale neck to her cheek. He could hear her breath catch as he came to trace her lips. And Madge, without breaking eye contact, circled one hand around his wrist, and closed her lips around his thumb. 

“Fuck.” He breathed. He could feel himself getting hard, and moved to push her down onto the bed.

“Wait.” Madge said, making him stop in his tracks. She took a deep breath. “I want to make _you_ feel good today.” 

_Jesus fucking Christ._

“Yeah?” His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. With a catlike smile, Madge rose up on her knees and pulled him down for a kiss.

“Yeah.” 

Madge’s small hand cautiously traveled down across his chest, past his stomach, to rest on his belt buckle. He was fully erect now, his cock straining desperately against his pants, and as soon as her palm brushed against him, he struggled to suppress a groan. It had been longer than usual since he’d had anyone but himself touch his cock, and the way Madge was looking at him made it ache to be inside something, ideally her. He bit the inside of his cheek and squeezed his eyes shut as she began to rub her hand up and down his shaft through his pants. His eyes flew open, however, when the pressure suddenly stopped.

“Am I hurting you, or something?” Madge asked nervously.

The sound that came out of him was somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “No.”

“Oh, okay good.”

Using his thumb and forefinger to angle her chin up, he met her gaze. “It feels great.”

This seemed to motivate Madge, as she grinned and started to unbuckle his belt. Helping her push his pants and underwear down, his cock bobbed as it was freed from his clothing. Madge’s eyes widened, and she sat back on her heels to look at it. All at once, Gale felt utterly exposed. He was a pretty confident guy, and had never gotten any complaints, but in the seconds Madge took to look at him he realized how much he wanted _her_ to like it. 

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He inwardly cringed at the way his voice faltered. “Is that a compliment?”

Her mouth stretched into a smile. “Yes.”

Madge took his cock in her hand, slowly starting to stroke him as he relaxed into her touch. When she cautiously licked the head, Gale stopped his knees from buckling right at the last second. Still stroking his shaft, she looked back up at him.

“Will you show me?”

It was getting more difficult to think by the second. “Show you what?”

“The way you like to be touched.” Madge said earnestly. For a moment, he was overwhelmed with a feeling he couldn’t place. He wanted to _hug_ her. Quickly, he pushed those emotions, whatever the hell they were, to the side.

“You want to do it together?” He asked, placing his hand over hers. Closing her hand tighter around his cock, they stroked it together. He nearly fell over when he felt her other hand start to caress his balls.

“Is that good?”

“Yeah, fuck— _please_ keep doing that.” He gasped. Holy _hell_ did that feel good. He’d never had a girl actually ask, much less try to learn what he liked sexually. Gale looked down at their hands, guiding her hand with his. More often than not, he preferred when girls just skipped giving a handjob altogether; it seemed juvenile, and rarely did he find it remotely enjoyable. But _this_ , one of her hands around his cock and the other on his balls, looking up at him with those eyes, biting her lip like all she wanted was to see him feel good, was unmatched. 

Gale tried to hold out as long as he could, but inevitably felt himself getting close. “I think I’m going to cum.”

“Can you do it in my mouth?”

Gale counted it a divine fucking miracle he didn’t cum right then and there. “Wh—are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“O-okay.” And with that, Madge took his cock into her mouth as far as she could. He bit down on his lip to keep from releasing a loud moan, and came down her throat with a grunt. Madge squeezed her eyes shut, but swallowed it all, even as a few tears collected in the corners of her eyes from the effort.

After, they laid down next to each other on Madge’s bed, only their shoulders touching like usual. Gale felt elated; he couldn’t believe what had just happened. Madge knocked her foot against Gale’s foot, breaking him out of his train of thought.

“What did you do that for?” He asked, bemused. 

“Has anyone ever told you you have enormous feet?”

Gale barked a laugh. “I can’t say they have.”

A soft silence fell over the pair as they laid there, Madge softly bumping her foot against Gale’s every so often. 

“Was that strange?” Madge finally asked.

It took him a second to realize what she was referring to. “You… wanting me to…” The recent image of his cock in her mouth as he was cumming appeared in his mind, and felt himself hardening again.

“Yeah.”

“No. I didn’t think it was strange.”

Madge smiled softly, pleased with his answer. “I’ve just been thinking about that. Wanting to do that to you—or, for you, I mean.”

He hoped that was not a one-time deal. “Can I ask why?”

“I don’t really know.” Madge said. “There’s not always a full explanation for everything.”

Gale scoffed. “Of course there is.”

“There are for a lot of things, but you think there’s _nothing_ in this world that exists that we can’t explain?”

Gale pretended to think for a moment. “No.”

“Even God?”

“Do you believe in God?”

“No. Not necessarily.” Madge bit her lip. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Waiting on something big?” 

“Huge.” She said, that catlike smile spreading over her face again as she ghosted her hand over his cock.

“Ah, come on… let’s say above-average.”

“Tomato-tomahto.”

Gale laughed. “You know, people say you’re a prude.”

“I know.” Madge smiled ruefully. 

“I would say that’s false.”

She shrugged. “What I do or do not do is none of anybody’s business but my own.”

He felt sure, then, that much of what he knew or thought he knew about Madge Undersee had been largely incorrect. 

“Can I ask you something?” Madge asked, breaking the silence once more.

“Sure.”

She turned over onto her side to face him. “What are you doing here?”

"In your bed?"

"Yeah. With..." Her eyes darted around the room, unable to look at him. "With me."

“There’s not always a full explanation for everything.” Gale replied, hoping she’d laugh and leave the conversation at that.

And Madge did laugh, but weakly. “But seriously.”

This was the conversation he had been hoping he’d be able to avoid. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” She took a long pause. “I mean, for years all you’ve done is come to my house with Katniss and either ignore me or pick a fight with me. And then all of a sudden, Katniss is gone and you kiss me.”

Hearing it all laid out like that, he had to admit, didn’t sound great. But he didn’t know what he was doing. He didn't know why he'd chosen to accept her invitation into her house on that first Saturday. And bringing up Katniss made him feel dirty, like he'd been seeing Madge behind her back or something.

“And?” He replied defensively.

“And so I guess I’m a little confused.” Madge continued carefully.

What did she want him to say? What did _he_ want to say?

“It’s… casual.” Gale said, making sure to keep his voice steady. “Just fun, messing around.”

“Messing… around.” Madge repeated him as if he’d spoken to her in a foreign language. The guilt started to creep in again. He felt his hackles rise.

“Yeah. Listen, I gotta go.” 

Gale got up off the bed, making for the bedroom door. Madge followed quickly, and with every second of her silence the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach worsened. 

At the foot of her back steps, Gale turned back like he always did. “Same time next week?” He asks gruffly, expecting her usual response. 

“Um.” She leaned against the door, looking down at her hands. “I’m not sure. I think my father’s going to be home.”

Her words hit Gale hard, but he clenched his jaw.

“Gotcha, no Seam trash allowed then.” Gale said coolly. 

Madge looked up to defend herself. “I didn’t say that.”

“But it was implied.” He added flippantly. He knew he sounded childish, but he didn’t care. _She_ was being childish, fishing for an answer for why they were doing what they were doing instead of just leaving well enough alone. 

“Alright, then I think my father will be home for the next, I don’t know. Hundred Saturdays.” Madge shot back. Her tone shocked him. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and Gale thought for a moment she was about to cry. 

The idea of not seeing Madge anymore indefinitely made his stomach drop, but he straightened up and shrugged. “That’s a shame.”

Madge narrowed her eyes. “Well, I’m sure you can find some “fun” elsewhere.”

He quickly bit back the urge to shout at her. He hadn’t chosen to develop this attraction to her. His life would have been a hell of a lot easier if he hadn’t. But Gale needed to remember where he was, and shouting at the Mayor’s daughter was not another problem he wanted to add to his ever-growing list. So he shook his head and turned away from her door. 

“Later, Undersee.”

He’d gotten no further than a few paces away from the house before she yelled after him, “So just like that?” He was surprised _she’d_ take the risk of making so much noise, but he reminded himself: she was rich. She had no concept of consequence. “You’re going to go back to completely ignoring me when you’re not attacking everything you _think_ I am?”

“I think I know who you are.” Even as he said it, they both knew he was lying. 

“You have no idea who I am.” Madge shot back. A lump rose in his throat. He’d never heard her sound like that, so wounded yet definite at the same time. “You haven’t taken the time to learn. Please don’t come back.”

Gale turned away before he heard the door slam shut.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey Delly. Sorry, I have to finish this homework before my last period.” Madge replied quickly, subtly speeding up her pace. Delly, ever the oblivious, matched it.   
> “Alright, alright. But first you have to tell me who gave you that hickey!”  
> Madge stopped in her tracks.  
> “What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you thank you for the kudos & comments!
> 
> The timeline of events starts to get reeeeeal wonky in this chapter and then towards the end just completely goes off the rails, so I'm pulling the plug and classifying it as AU/non-canon compliant/i.e. the Quarter Quell does not exist. But we're here for happy Gadge endings! So I hope you can forgive me. 
> 
> P.S. This fic will now have 4 chapters instead of 3. We love an even number.

“ _Madge!_ ” Delly Cartwright crowed, sidling up to her in the hallway after math class. Delly was sweet and well-meaning, but Madge simply didn’t have the stamina left to put on a happy face this far into the school day.

“Hey Delly. Sorry, I have to finish this homework before my last period.” Madge replied quickly, subtly speeding up her pace. Delly, ever the oblivious, matched it. 

“Alright, alright. But first you _have_ to tell me who gave you that hickey!”

Madge stopped in her tracks.

“What?”

Delly fumbled in her shoulder bag, producing a small compact mirror. “Lower left quadrant.”

She was right. Madge must have missed it as she’d been wearing her hair down at school, but today a hickey the size of a quarter was prominently displayed thanks to her ponytail. It was fading, but still clearly noticeable. Handing the compact mirror back to Delly, Madge quickly pulled the hair tie out of her hair. As she shook her hair out, she prayed Delly would have the sense not to ask again.

“Cough it up Undersee, who’s the mystery guy?”

“Nobody.”

Delly rolled her eyes. “Madge. Come on!”

Why the hell did she have to be so pale? She hadn’t been with Gale in over a week. It should have disappeared by now.

“It’s from the ghost that you’re convinced is living in my attic.” Madge said flatly, changing direction and making a beeline for the girl’s bathroom. 

“I hope he at least bought you a nice ghost dinner first, that thing is worth at least a meal and some conversation.” 

One thing Madge did like about Delly was that she knew when to let up. Madge smiled. “Three courses _and_ a dessert.”

It wasn’t until Madge arrived home that she realized: Gale must have seen it earlier that day. She’d caught him staring at her when she’d skipped lunch to get her reading done outside. Across the lawn, or whatever you could call the patch of browning grass in front of the school steps, he had been keeping his friends company as they smoked sloppily rolled cigarettes with loose tobacco from somewhere in the Seam. Stoically, he held his gaze steady even after Madge had met his, unyielding until Madge folded and broke eye contact. The hickey must have been why. He probably thought she was trying to flaunt it, or something. 

Madge buried her face in her hands. The breeze from the open window tickled her face, the smell of approaching rain rolling in from the east. She felt strung out and exhausted. Without Saturdays with Gale to look forward to, the days became some gradual, unbreakable death march.

Last week, she had watched Gale’s interview with the reporter from the Capitol. They had called him Katniss’ _cousin_ , an odd lie she assumed was concocted to protect Katniss and Peeta’s on-screen relationship. Madge didn’t quite know what to make of that either—Katniss had never mentioned Peeta before the Games, yet there was a certain quality in both Katniss and Peeta’s eyes when they looked at each other that made Madge wonder if it was more than just a ruse. In the interview, Gale looked impatient and uncomfortable, but still, the sight of his face made her stomach flip. 

Madge’s fingers come up to brush against the hickey on her neck and shivered. She’d goaded him into giving it to her, begging him to bite her harder. But she hadn’t been able to help it. It had felt so good in the moment, the pleasure and pain more intense than anything she had ever felt before. 

She was worried about his injury. She knew he wouldn’t ask her for supplies again, and she hoped he hadn’t returned to using fabric scraps in place of bandages. And she missed him.

But she was still angry with him too. He’d let her down. She thought they had reached some kind of understanding, but the way he’d spoken to her last Saturday confirmed to her that that was not the case. He was a jerk, Madge said to herself, and used women for his own gratification like they were disposable. But then she would consider how he’d made her cum several times before she’d ever done the same for him. And it _was_ true that he’d never given her any concrete evidence that there was anything more between them, much less a _relationship._

Madge shoved the thought aside. 

_Stop making excuses for him._ She insisted to herself. _He isn’t doing the same for you, and you’re letting him walk all over you. Do you really think that low of yourself? To be a placeholder, a warm body until Katniss returns?_

She refused to do that. She might have made a mistake, giving into her attraction to him, but she would be strong. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

* * *

Gale had done what Madge asked and hadn’t returned that Saturday morning. He’d spent most of the day hunting, which had been unsuccessful. Frustrated, he sat down on a log in the woods, filling his lungs with fresh, untainted air. Birds chirped high in the trees around him as Gale closed his eyes. He was privately dreading visiting the Everdeen’s later tonight, primarily due to the meager amount of food he had to offer them. Being there reminded him of Katniss, too, and that shithead Peeta, which brought up an anger and a fear he was afraid to touch at the moment. Katniss was still alive; that was what mattered most. 

For what felt like the hundredth time today, Gale’s thoughts inevitably drifted to Madge. He kicked at the leaves underneath his feet, crushing them in frustration. He had been cruel, something he was unfortunately learning he was easily capable of, to someone who probably deserved it the least. It didn’t help that he knew Hazelle, his mother, would have told him she was disgusted with him if she had known anything about his behavior. If his father had still been alive, he would have been disgusted with Gale too. 

It wasn’t as if girls hadn’t misinterpreted things in the past—he’d received a hard slap in the face and a few choice words from Liza Thurnst after he’d told her he wasn’t interested in being her date to the school dance (despite the fact they’d spent an _eventful_ twenty minutes together at slag heap weeks before), but for some reason this felt different. 

He knew he wanted to be there, and he knew that he liked kissing her. He even sometimes liked talking to her. She was strange, but thoughtful. Definitively, she was a lot smarter than him, which he didn’t admit easily, and could sometimes actually be funny. But whatever was between the two of them was unsustainable, unrealistic. How could she not know that? Why did he have to be the bad guy?

On his walk back from the woods, Gale’s eyes fell to a patch of wildflowers in the meadow. They were in full bloom, their pastel petals stretching towards the sun. Madge would probably like them, he thought sourly to himself. She liked beautiful things, despite their lack of purpose. A few of the flowers looked similar to those she’d painted on her bedroom wall. 

Instead of following his usual route home, Gale took the long way, looping around to the main road separating town from the Seam. As he walked, the oranges and pinks of the sunset dissolved into purples, and eventually a broad, deep blue. His feet were starting to ache, but he needed to keep moving. He was worried if he stopped, even just for a moment, he wouldn’t be able to start going again. 

Gale wondered if Madge had been disappointed that he hadn’t tried to return to her house this morning. Maybe she’d spent the day sitting on that couch in her living room, her delicate fingers twirling a blond curl absently, waiting for his knock. Or maybe she’d been playing that grand piano she had in the corner, completely absorbed in the music, not thinking of him at all. 

Suddenly, his ears perked up. He must have been imagining things… he could have sworn he heard Madge’s _voice_. Glancing up from his shoes, he squinted towards the end of the road, and there she was, walking briskly in a flimsy, yellow sundress, her arms crossed protectively over her middle. Gale registered Ace, a man in his thirties who worked in the mines, trotting next to her. He lived in a tiny shack by himself relatively close to the Hawthorne’s, and was widely known to be a bit of a drunk. Predictably, Ace was swaying on his feet, but by the way Madge was staring straight down at the ground in front of her, Gale could tell something was seriously amiss. What the hell was she doing out here so close to dark anyway? Was she that stupid?

As Gale neared the pair, Madge finally looked up and met his eyes. His stomach jumped, and her eyes widened, but she didn’t miss a step. In fact, she slowed down, which afforded Ace the opportunity to finally catch up with her. 

Ace said something too slurred for Gale to make out from his distance away, but he saw clearly when Ace snuck his arm around her shoulder, dipping his face dangerously close to Madge’s. She dodged him, eyes darting back and forth from Ace to Gale. Ace had probably spotted her out here alone and pegged her as easy prey. Probably didn’t even realize who her father was. Madge shrunk under the older man’s grip, and rage bubbled up in Gale’s chest. Before he could think twice, he crossed to the other side of the road, blocking Ace’s path. 

Looking directly at Madge, Gale asked pointedly, “Are you alright?” 

“We’re fine, big man.” Ace responded forcefully, his coal-stained fingers curling around Madge’s bare shoulder. 

Gritting his teeth as Gale tried to stop himself from shouting, he repeated calmly, “I’m not asking you, I’m asking her. Are you alright?”

Meeting his gaze, she looked frightened, but resolute. He hoped she wouldn’t choose now to be spiteful against him. 

But unfortunately, she lifted her chin and huffed. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“See?” Ace said, grinning a half-toothless smile. His arm traveled down off Madge’s shoulder, and roughly squeezed her ass. She exclaimed, shoving Ace away from her, and out of nowhere Gale’s fist made connection with Ace’s face. Ace staggered backwards, clutching his jaw, as Gale pulled back. Shaking out his first, Gale felt the dull sting letting him know he’d broken through the skin on a few of his knuckles.

“Fuck!” Ace shouted, chest heaving. “Christ Hawthorne, it was just a bit of fun.”

“Do you fucking know who she is?” He replied, gesturing to Madge. “She’s _the Mayor’s daughter._ ”

Apparently Ace was sober enough to clock that piece of information, and straightened up shakily. He turned to Madge, his mouth gaping like a fish. “Miss, I’m… I didn’t mean anything—“

“Get out of here.” Gale ordered, his voice so booming it practically echoed in the late dusk light. Ace nodded jerkily, and turned back the way he’d come, tripping over the decaying laces of his workman’s boots as he disappeared down the road. 

By the time Gale took his eyes off the older man, he noticed Madge had started walking away from him in the other direction. He jogged to catch up with her, taking hold of her wrist as he approached. Madge whirled around, ripping herself out of his grasp. 

“Sorry.” Gale said, recoiling immediately. The last thing she probably wanted right now was a different guy grabbing her. He cleared his throat, “What are you doing out here? Looking for me?” 

After it came out, Gale cringed inwardly at how self-involved he sounded. Madge rolled her eyes angrily at him. “No Gale, I know you might find this hard to believe, but occasionally I have other things on my mind _besides_ you.”

Her voice cracked towards the end of her sentence, and hugged herself tighter as goosebumps appeared over her exposed skin. Gale thought, for a moment, she was shivering, but then he saw. Madge was crying. 

She sped up, but she was a little less than a foot shorter than him, so he matched her stride. He could sense her trying to get away from him, and he felt awful trying to ignore the tears running silently down her cheeks and onto her dress. But he wasn’t going to leave her in the dark alone. 

“Why are you crying?” Gale finally asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. 

“Why am I crying?” Madge stopped in the middle of the road and laughed in disbelief, shaking her head at him. “Because I was just embarrassed, Gale. I was touched in a way I didn’t want to be, in front of _you_ , of all people.”

His heart sank. He hadn’t considered that—Ace had grabbed her like she was a piece of meat, too roughly and possibly even painfully. Madge didn’t deserve to be handled that way. Ever.

“I never did that, right?” He blurted out, his eyes frantically searching hers.

Her eye brows furrowed. “What?”

“Touched you when you didn’t want to be touched.” He felt his eyes start to burn and he clenched his fists. He seriously doubted he could live with himself if she’d said yes. 

“No.” Madge said gravely, shaking her head. “No, not once.”

Gale nodded, breath returning to his chest. Her blue eyes remained on him, studying his face, looking surprised at his question. It was too intense. He coughed. “I’ll walk you home.”

The moment was broken. She shook her head, starting back up the road again. 

“I can make it on my own.” Madge declared. And again, Gale easily caught up with her. 

“Let me walk you home.” He repeated firmly. Madge rolled her eyes, but kept quiet for the remainder of the journey back into town to her doorstep. As they walked, he couldn’t help taking in the scent of her, something he hadn’t smelled in what felt like ages. Soft and floral, something unlike anything he’d ever smelled outside of the meadow. All day, he’d maintained the promise he’d made to himself not to return to her. But now that he was here, looking at the back of her silhouette reaching for the doorknob, he ached to be close to her again.

“Did you mean what you said?” Gale asked, as loudly as he could given that her father was probably somewhere in the house. “About never wanting me to come back.”

Madge spun around to face him, her lips slightly parted. 

“Yes.” She replied evenly after a moment, though her eyes started to well up again with tears. She shook her head, refusing to let the tears to fall. “I can’t do that anymore, with you… it’s too much.”

“Do you miss it?” Gale’s voice was barely above a low whisper. He felt it again, that same aching, electrical charge that always flared up between them when they got close to each other. He’d meant the question to come out neutrally, but his tone betrayed him. Madge’s eyelids fluttered shut, and she released a shaky breath. This confirmed it for him—she felt it too. 

But she bit her lip before inhaling sharply. “It doesn’t matter if I do. I’m not what you’re looking for.”

“You get to decide that for me, do you?” Gale snapped. Madge’s eyes widened and she shook her head once more. Gale panicked. This was going downhill fast. He hadn’t planned on pursuing her further, but he should have at least formulated some sort of outline of what to he was going to say to her as they had neared her house. He could feel her pulling away from him again, but fell silent. Madge opened the back door. 

“You should find someone else. Someone who’s better at doing things casually.” Madge said over her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Without another look back, she closed the door behind her, leaving Gale with a few bloody knuckles, and a debilitatingly heavy heart.

* * *

Weeks go by, and Gale doesn’t return to her home. Madge avoids him in school, somewhat out of principle but mostly out of fear. She doesn’t trust her judgement around him. 

But curiously, pressed wildflowers begin showing up tucked into the back of her notebook. The first Madge had stumbled upon had slid out from between the last two pages as she’d attempted to pack up her bag after class, and she’d shrugged it off as a peculiar, but beautiful, occurrence. After the third, though, she was positive someone else had been placing them in her notebook on purpose. How and when and why, she wasn’t sure. Of course, her suspicions landed on Gale, but he hadn’t so much as glanced at her since he’d walked her home that night, and judging from the frequent gossip she overheard in the girl’s bathroom, he’d taken her advice. 

At first, hearing Leevy, a girl Madge had never spoken to from the Seam, describe the feeling of Gale’s lips had sent her spiraling. She had practically flown home when the school day ended, to cry in the privacy of her bedroom and torture herself by imaging Gale's hands combing through Leevy's hair. And it still hurt, but with time, slowly evolved into a constant but dull pain, punctuated by short bouts of frustration. 

Katniss and Peeta _win the Games. Together._ They return to District 12, and Madge is relieved to know concretely that her friend is alive. She knows Gale must be ecstatic. She spotted him from across the square, waiting impatiently for Katniss’ train to pull in along with the rest of his family. 

She also catches a glimpse of Peeta, looking intently at Katniss, before they separate to greet their respective loved ones. Sighing privately, Madge realizes she feels sorry for him. Watching Gale embrace Katniss, with such a level of comfort and ease, she feels a kinship with Peeta, though he’ll never know it. In the end, no one could come between Gale and Katniss’ bond. 

Madge spent the remainder of the summer sweaty and bored, unable to concentrate on her piano exercises and uninterested in practically everything she attempted to read. She saw Katniss once or twice, but since the Games ended Katniss’ life had changed drastically.

Gale did not return to school come September. Madge didn’t know why she was so jarred by his absence in the halls or the cafeteria, she had known he would begin working in the mines—as his father had—as soon as he graduated. But even the lack of his presence had kicked up some old feelings Madge preferred to keep buried as deep as possible. 

So when Madge heard a knock at the back door on a Saturday in early October, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest in both excitement and dread. Running a hand through her hair, she rushed to the door, opening it to find Katniss.

“Oh.” Madge’s shoulders sagged. “Hi Katniss.”

“Not happy to see me?” Katniss joked dryly. Madge breathed a laugh.

“No, sorry. It’s very nice to see you. What’s the occasion?”

Katniss quickly got down to the point, never much of an unnecessary talker. Similar to Gale, in that way. “My mother is insisting we throw a dinner party at our new house. I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

Madge blinked. “Um. Sure. When is it? Do I need to bring anything?”

“You don’t need to bring anything, just yourself.” Katniss answered. “And it’s Sunday, that’s Gale’s day off.”

The slice of apple pie Madge ate a little over an hour ago started to churn in her stomach. What had she been thinking? Of _course_ Gale would be there.

She realized Katniss was staring at her expectantly. Too late to back out now. Gulping down her nerves, Madge told her, “Yes. I’ll see you Sunday.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He seized Katniss’ arm, yanking her around the corner out of sight. “What the hell is she doing here?”
> 
> Katniss rolled her eyes as if she had been bracing herself for this interaction.
> 
> “Madge is my friend, Gale.” She explained shortly. She wasn’t getting it—this was gearing up to be the most awkward night of Gale’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have written a hell of a lot more in the past couple days than I have in years, and it feels good.
> 
> I dedicate this fic (read: angst and absolute smut) to the Gadge community, which I lurked in throughout high school and have found again--thankfully still kicking--in a very bizarre time in my life. Thank you for the kudos and comments, and I hope you guys enjoy!

Hazelle fiddled with Gale’s collar as they neared the Everdeen’s new residence. He shrugged her off, but she only clucked disapprovingly, and turned her attention back to Posy. Taking a steadying breath as his brother Rory knocked on the door, Gale prepared to plaster on a half-assed vacant smile to hide his bored expression. He’d much rather have been out in the woods today, his _one_ day off, but Katniss had begged him to attend as if she didn’t know his mother would force him to the second she found out the dinner was happening.

He supposes he should be happy with the way things have worked out between Katniss and him. There was a moment in the woods, a few weeks ago, where he’d confessed to her how he thought he felt. She hadn’t reciprocated. Desperate, he had pressed a kiss to her lips. It had been pleasant, comfortable… but there was something missing. No chills, no hunger. Katniss had smiled sadly at him, letting him know that she didn’t think she could love anyone right now, not with the terror of the Games still fresh in her mind. Privately, he had his suspicions about her professed indifference to Peeta, but he wouldn’t broach that topic until she brought it up herself.

Mrs. Everdeen opened up the front door, and ushered the Hawthorne family in. Giving their individual greetings to Mrs. Everdeen, Vick and Posy made a beeline for a table containing a plate of _sugar cookies_ , a delicacy no one in the Hawthorne family had tasted for years, as Rory searched for Prim and Hazelle followed Mrs. Everdeen into the kitchen. 

Gale was left alone, surveying the room for Katniss. Before he could check any of the other rooms, he recognized her feet padding down the stairs into the front room. He couldn’t believe how large her new house was in comparison to the ones they’d grown up in. Katniss must have been able to infer what he’d been thinking, because she smiled sheepishly. “I’m not used to it yet either.”

Gale returned the smile. It was a relief to find her personality largely unchanged by all this, albeit a little jumpier. He opened his mouth to make a comment about the sugar cookies, when a girl with blonde hair clutching a wrapped fresh loaf of bread entered the front room. 

He seized Katniss’ arm, yanking her around the corner out of sight. “What the hell is she doing here?”

Katniss rolled her eyes as if she had been bracing herself for this interaction. 

“Madge is my friend, Gale.” She explained shortly. She wasn’t getting it—this was gearing up to be the most awkward night of Gale’s life. 

“Listen, I… we…” Gale stuttered, his palms sweating. How could he explain it? What could he say, he’d seduced her, treated her like shit, and eventually she’d wised up and cut him out of her life? 

“What?” Katniss hissed. 

Gale released her arm. “Never mind.”

“I know you don’t like her very much, but try to be kind.” Katniss said sternly. She turned on her heel to walk away.

“There was something between us.” Gale finally blurted. Katniss paused, and stepped backwards into the doorframe they’d been whispering under. “Between Madge and I, while you were gone. I wanted to tell you, but I was confused about how I felt. It ended before I kissed you.”

Katniss nodded slowly. She seemed surprised, but not upset or angry. “Are you still interested in her?”

Judging by the way his heart hammered out of chest when he saw her again, Gale replied, “I think I am. So it’s… it’s hard for me to be around her.”

“Well have you told her?” Katniss asked, as if that was the most obvious course of action in the world. His jaw clenched impatiently. 

“Why would I?” Gale questioned, struggling to keep his voice to a low volume. “It’s not like we’d ever actually work out together. And I’m a miner now, I wouldn’t subject her to a shitty life of being with someone like that.”

“Don’t you think you should let her decide that?” Katniss shot back. It sounded eerily similar to something he’d said the last time he’d spoken to Madge. “Consider it. In the meantime, let’s just be polite, alright? The sooner we can get through this dinner, the better.”

“Alright.” Gale relented, though he wasn’t sure if he believed the night could actually be salvaged, given the fact that the last time Madge and him had been in proximity of each other, it had not gone very well. 

* * *

Madge felt relieved to find herself sitting between Mrs. Hawthorne and Prim Everdeen, until she looked up from her first course and straight into Gale’s face directly across the table from her. This was going to be… a very long dinner.

She hadn’t seen him in only a little under four months, but he looked different. Tired. The skin under his eyes was tinged purple, visible even beneath his olive skin. But he was still just as handsome. She watched as he tugged uncomfortably at his collar. Hazelle had clearly forced him to wear his Sunday best, and Madge could have laughed at how awkward he looked in semi-formal wear if looking at him at all wasn’t so painful. 

Throughout the evening, it seemed, no matter who was speaking, Madge felt the heat of Gale’s gaze. When she finally lifted her head, his eyes darted away from her and back down at the table. A strange expression washed over his face, one she had never seen from him before… He was embarrassed. She felt her breathing start to quicken. A second before, he had been looking at her the way he used to, when he would pause from kissing her to cradle her cheeks in his hands and just stare at her, as if he was trying to memorize the details of her face.

Someone brushed against Madge’s foot under the table, and she jumped. 

Gale’s head shot up from his plate. “Sorry.”

The interruption caused a pregnant pause in the larger conversation. Madge felt her cheeks burning. “It’s alright.” 

Once Posy had recaptured the table’s attention with continuing the complicated story about a stray puppy she’d seen on the walk over, Madge took a chance and lifted her head back up. The dress shirt he wore stretched over his shoulders stiffly, but Madge remembered what was underneath—the broad expanse of his chest, the muscles of his back… 

Glancing down at his right hand, she could see his knuckles had healed from the last time she’d seen him. Madge had been testing fate that night. True, she had ostensibly been on her way to pay a visit to Mrs. Everdeen and Prim, something she’d been meaning to do ever since the Games had started, but she would have been lying to herself if she claimed running into him somewhere in the Seam hadn’t even crossed her mind. 

_Did you mean what you said? About never wanting me to come back. Do you miss it?_ His words from that day echoed in her head.

But when Madge tried to meet Gale’s eyes once more, he was staring down the table at Katniss. Madge caught just the end of something Katniss was covertly attempting to mouth to Gale, but couldn’t quite make out what it was before Hazelle turned to ask Madge how her mother was doing. 

“Oh she’s… she’s well.” Madge replied vaguely. “Thank you for asking.”

Hazelle nodded. 

“Good to hear. You know, this color looks so beautiful on you.” She continued, gesturing to her dress. “Very nice with your eyes.”

“It does.” Gale said suddenly. Both his mother and Madge’s heads turned swiftly to him, and even Katniss’ ears seemed to perk up. Everyone at the table was quiet, and Madge was positive all the oxygen available in the house had disappeared. The tips of Gale’s ears started to turn pink, but he held his composure, looking resolutely back at Madge. 

_Speak, Madge! Speak!_

“Thank you.” Madge said, as politely and evenly as possible. She clasped her hand over her wrist and tilted her face down towards her lap, hoping upon hope that the fire spreading over her cheeks would _calm down_ before anyone commented on it. She could feel her pulse going a mile a minute. It was mortifying.

Blessedly, _Katniss_ , of all people, prompted Prim to fill their guests in on her goat, Lady, and her recovery from a recent minor injury. For the rest of the dinner, Madge did not look up from her plate. She finished her meal wordlessly, and after Gale’s brother Vick made some grumblings about wanting to get home to finish his homework before school tomorrow, the dinner guests started to rise from the table. Madge stuck close to the wall, allowing Mrs. Hawthrone to angle past her to say a proper goodbye to Mrs. Everdeen. As the younger guests said their goodbyes, Madge took the opportunity to retrieve her coat from the closet by the stairs. 

Carefully avoiding Gale, Madge looped around the other side of the table to bid Katniss goodnight.

“Thank you for coming.” Katniss said warmly, and squeezed Madge’s hand. “I know it was a little strange.”

Madge smiled thinly. “No, it was fun.” All of a sudden, Madge felt deeply unsettled. Katniss was such a good friend to her, and all Madge had done while Katniss had been fighting for her life was go behind her back and lust after someone she cared about. 

As inconspicuously as she could manage, Madge slipped out the front door of the Everdeen’s new home and started down the path. She gulped in the crisp, fall sunset air. Soon, the sun would start to set much earlier in the day, and winter would come. Her coat flapped in the breeze as she waited for her breathing to slow down. 

Gale had _complimented_ her, in front of Katniss _and_ his family. Well, not really, he’d only agreed with someone his mother had said, but still. 

Just when Madge thought she’d escaped successfully, his voice called out from behind her. “Hey, Madge, wait.” 

She froze. 

“I’ll be home in a little while.” She heard him call over his shoulder. Holding her breath, Madge waited as his quiet footsteps approached her. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She replied, her voice barely above a whisper. He hadn’t been in this close proximity to her in what felt like forever. One step to the side and his shoulder would have been touching hers. 

“Look I… I wanted to talk to you.”

Madge clenched her fist around the side of her jacket. “What about?”

His gray eyes searched her face, more vulnerable than she’d ever seen them outside of her bedroom. It made her chest ache, and she fought the urge to reach out and touch him. 

“I’ve missed you.” Gale said finally. 

His words hit her like a wall of bricks. Of course she wanted to hear him say this, she’d fantasized about it almost every night as she tried to sleep. But it wasn’t enough. She knew he still loved Katniss, regardless of whatever had happened between her and Peeta.

“Alright.” 

He clearly hadn’t been expecting that. His eyebrows furrowed, and he insisted, “I want to see you again.”

Madge squared her shoulders. “Well, I don’t want to see you.” 

“Bullshit.” He practically growled. It should have frightened her, but instead she felt a familiar tingling deep in the pit of her stomach. “Why were you blushing in there then?”

_Damn it._

“I wasn’t.” Madge cursed herself inwardly as she felt the warmth begin to return to her cheeks. 

“I saw you.” He stated simply. The corners of his lips started to tug upwards. “You’re doing it a little bit now, too.” 

Madge looked down at her shoes. Why did she always have to feel this way around him? Like she was drowning, but somehow desperately wanted to give into the pull. 

Gathering her courage, she stared Gale straight in the eye. 

“What about Katniss?”

“What _about_ Katniss? There isn’t anything between us. I thought there was, but I didn’t feel kissing her what I felt with you.” Madge’s breath hitched. So they _had_ kissed. “She doesn’t want to be with me, and I don’t want to be with her.”

She let his statement wash over her in the silence of the empty road. Something in her chest shifted, as a wave of emotions coursed through her with what felt like the force of an earthquake. He looked so hopeful, gazing down at her as his dark hair rustling in the autumn breeze. 

Gale continued quickly, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I know I’m not… I don’t have much money, I can’t offer you that you don’t already have—“

“I don’t care about how much money you have.” She heard herself say, though the ringing in her ears made it difficult to make out.

“—But I’ll work hard. And I—“

Madge stopped him, lifting herself up on the balls of her feet and pressing her lips to his. He responded in kind immediately, curling his arms around her lower back and pulling him flush against him. 

* * *

Gale didn’t know whether or not it had been a good idea to mention he’d kissed Katniss at all, but he wanted to make sure he didn’t lie to her again. 

They’d stumbled back to Madge’s home, their arms tangled in each others and Gale stopping every couple paces to kiss her once more. Once inside her bedroom, he pressed himself against Madge’s body, trapping her against the door, drinking in her taste and scent. His entire body felt like it was throbbing. He couldn’t believe he had gone this long without feeling her. His thumb caught on the waistband of her underwear through her dress. Wrenching his lips from hers, he asked shakily, “What color are they?”

“Blue.” She replied, stepping away from him slowly. A shy smile fell over her lips as she tucked a stray section of blonde hair behind her ear. “Do you want to see?”

Christ, did he ever.

“I do.”

Without taking her eyes from his, Madge slipped her flimsy sundress over her head, leaving her in a pair of simple, baby blue underwear and nothing else. The last suggestions of sunlight left in the day floated in from behind the curtains of her window and clung to her hair, settling on the soft slopes of her pale breasts, washing over her abdomen and down to the top of her underwear. Gale swore his mouth was actually watering, thinking of how much he wanted to suck and bite her nipples, but he clenched his fists and waited for her to move first. When he looked back up at her face, it held a small smile. 

“Now you.” She said, crossing her arms. The movement only served to make her breasts press together, and the thought crossed his mind that she could probably get him to do practically anything right now so long as he would be permitted to touch her soon. “It’s only fair.”

Gale nodded, “Only fair.” 

As he lifted his shirt over his head, he watched her eyes scan the expanse of his chest and down to the remnants of the wound on his abdomen, now almost fully healed. Slowly, he rid himself of his pants, shoes and socks, and stood in only his boxers as they studied each other. 

She was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Shy, but so full of determination and strength. And beautiful. 

He couldn’t wait another moment—he crossed the room, gathering her up in his arms and kissing her deeply. She responded in kind, licking into his mouth and letting her hands travel up his shoulders to interlace them behind his neck. 

Gale angled them towards the bed, laying her gently down against the covers. The feeling of her naked chest against his felt incredible, and she gasped as he ground into her, only two thin layers of cotton separating his cock from her opening. His hands spasmed at the contact. He could feel himself losing control. Greedily, he curled his fingers around the waistband of her underwear.

“Can I take these off?” He asked, and Madge nodded jerkily. Pulling the fabric down her legs, Gale kept his eyes on Madge’s face, until the underwear slipped off her ankles and onto the floor below. 

She was better than he had even imagined. Impossibly soft, pink folds, already wet though he hadn’t touched her there yet. Gale quickly discarded his boxers. He took another moment to take in Madge’s body, laid out for him as if in a dream. His cock dripped with precum, and he knew desperately all he wanted was to be inside her.

He moved to be on top of her once more, but stopped abruptly when he saw her expression. “Are you okay?”

Madge chewed her bottom lip and nodded, but his heart suddenly seized. Something was wrong.

“You’ve done this before, right?” She asked nervously, not meeting his gaze. 

Gale swallowed thickly. “Yeah.”

Madge sat up, pressing her small palms to cover her chest. Gale averted his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” He blinked, inwardly surprised at how quickly his arousal had disappeared at her distress.

“I just… I’m feeling a little bit nervous.” Madge explained, her tone almost shameful. “I don’t know why.”

“Okay, then we can stop.” He replied earnestly, cursing himself inwardly for letting his desire overcome him. He wanted her desperately, but not if she wasn’t ready. Madge tried to turn her face away from Gale, but he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He needed her to hear him. “Really.”

“No, I don’t want to stop.” Cautiously, she met his gaze. He felt a chill run up his spine. But he needed to be sure.

“Talk to me.” He said, his voice low. Her blue eyes shone with what looked like both wanting and apprehension. After a moment, she conceded.

“I’m scared I’ll disappoint you.” Madge admitted quietly. Gale could have laughed out loud—she thought _she_ would disappoint him? She had no idea. 

“You can’t.” Gale said firmly. Her eyes widened, and Gale knew he needed to take a chance. “You’re… I’ve never felt about anyone else the way I feel about you.” 

As the truth escaped his lips, he thought he would be shaken. He’d spent so long expertly tamping down his feelings, never allowing himself to dwell on her for more than a moment at a time, but now he had spoken it aloud and he felt strangely at peace. Her delicate fingers reached up to brush his cheek, and he noticed the fear that had been present in her expression had disintegrated.

“Touch me.” Madge commanded, her tone confidently final. It sent a shock of pleasure to his cock, and he obliged, attaching his mouth to her neck as she bared her throat for him to mark. Sucking at her skin, she arched up into him, seemingly spurred by his confession. 

His lips traveled lower, nipping at her collarbone before circling one of her nipples with his tongue. Madge gasped in pleasure, fisting her hands through his hair and scratching lightly against his scalp in the process. She made the most gorgeous sounds, Gale thought, as he lavished her breasts with his tongue until she was practically panting from the stimulation.

Continuing his path, he kissed down her stomach. Carefully, _slowly,_ he parted her legs. 

“…So beautiful.” He murmured against her inner thigh. She sighed longingly, her grip in his hair tightening as his hot breath washed over her most sensitive part.

His eyelids lowered as his mouth dipped between her legs, pressing his tongue against her opening. He was determined to make her cum with his mouth—she deserved at least this, after all he’d put her through. He hoped, even if he failed to do so words, that he could make her understand how much she meant to him.

Easing her into it, he began languidly licking at her clit, working to a steady rhythm. She responded eagerly. Her head dropped back onto the pillow and she moaned, angling her hips upward to deepen the pressure. Gale obliged, focusing his attention on that small bundle of nerves, moving his tongue in circles as he used his free hand to massage her breasts. She tasted unbelievable—sweet and tangy, and he knew he could spend hours here, trapped between her thighs. 

Speeding up his movements, he shifted to add a finger inside of her. She gasped at the intrusion, but swiftly adapted, melting into the pleasure and sighing his name.

“Please… Gale, please…” Madge begged, canting her hips against his mouth. Her thighs twitched on either side of his head. His cock throbbed at the ragged quality of her voice, and he added another finger, delving deep inside her as he sucked on her clit. 

Soon, he felt her body start to tremble, and she released, cumming hard against his lips as he licked her through the orgasm. 

As he straightened up, he took in the image of her, strewn out on the bed before him. Her chest had broken out in a pretty pink from the exertion, her jaw slack as she struggled to regain her breath. Crawling back on top of her, he pressed a soft kiss against her temple as her eyes refocused. 

Hungrily, she took hold of his shoulder and met his eyes. “I want you. I want to feel you inside me.”

His resolve slipping, she shifted their positions, laying Gale out flat on his back. Her hand found his shaft, and grasped it purposefully, stroking him in the way he’d shown her all those months ago. It was her turn to take in his body now, and he waited as patiently as he could as her eyes traversed his person.

The look in her eyes… he’d never been looked at like that before. Like he was something special. 

Madge positioned herself over him, the head of his cock brushing against her. Gale bit his lip at the contact, and gripped the down comforter on her bed to stop himself from taking hold of her hips and thrusting up into her. 

Without breaking eye contact, Madge lowered herself onto his cock, every inch agony and ecstasy all at once for Gale. But mustering what he could only consider the patience of a monk, he stilled himself. He wanted Madge to be in control, he knew he would never forgive himself if he rushed this.

When he opened his eyes, he found her smiling down at him. Her expression was darkened with want, and her hands came up to press against his chest as her nails dug into his skin. She began to ride him—jerkily, at first, but she soon found her stride. She felt even better than she’d tasted, her blonde hair wild and curling around her shoulders as she moved up and down the length of his shaft. His large palms took hold of her thighs again as she clenched from inside, her breathing amplified by the silence outside the bedroom. Gale felt distinctly like this had to have been a dream, he hadn’t done anything close to deserve this and yet she was here. Giving herself to him, and he gave himself to her in turn. He’d had sex before, only twice, but he understood now that in a way this was his first time too. 

He turned his full attention back to the woman on top of him, her lips rounded into an entranced “O”. 

“This… this feels so good.” Madge whispered, at the same time lustful and a little surprised. It ignited something in Gale he couldn’t tamp down, and he growled, his hands flexing where he held onto her thighs. 

Deftly switching their positions, Gale thrusted into her from above, burying his cock as deep inside her as he could as she cried out. Her tight, wet walls clamped down on his cock and he squeezed his eyes shut—he couldn’t cum, not yet, not until she did. He needed to give her that. Sparing a hand to reach down and touch her clit, he rubbed his fingers against her, relishing in the way she pressed her head back into the pillows and let loose a filthy moan. 

It wasn’t long before her hips were meeting his with every thrust, her body desperate, chasing the high. She came forcefully, nails digging into the skin on his back as she shuddered beneath him. Pride flooded through Gale’s veins, and with a few more thrusts and a hell of a lot of willpower, he pulled himself out of her and came across her stomach. 

As his vision refocused, he gazed down to see a sated Madge Undersee smiling back at him. Shocked at the fact that his arms were still managing to hold himself up, he lifted himself from on top of her.

“There’s a cloth in the top drawer of my bureau, just… um… there.” She gestured shakily. A satisfied laugh escaped his lips, but he nodded, retrieving a small washcloth for her to clean herself. When she was finished, she handed it back to him, and he placed it carefully in what she explained was her laundry basket. 

Collapsing on the bed next to her, he nestled his face into the crook of her neck, gathering her against him once more. 

“Madge… We should talk about—“

“Later.” She said softly, “We will worry about that later. For now, just hold me.”

And so they laid on Madge’s bed, tangled up in each other, until the stars appeared in the clear October night.


End file.
